Sullivan Saga 2: Sullivan's Wrath (14 page)

“And that,” said Sullivan, “is what you’re going to do to us.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“The physical universes are infinite. But there is only one hyperspace. Anyone wishing to travel to another universe must pass through here. Occasionally, some do attempt it. We stop them, however.” She looked at Sullivan. “You have felt the power we have here in hyperspace. We do not prefer physical violence—we try to influence them subtly first—but if they persist, we take the necessary action.”

“But I’m guessing,” said Sullivan, “that someone has found a way to get through. And you weren’t able to stop them.”

Liz cast her eyes downward. “I said no human technology is able to navigate hyperspace to cross between specific universes. But there are other technologies, technologies not as limited as yours, which can.”

“In one universe, a particular species has, for around two thousand years, been slowly spreading, traveling from star to star and conquering whoever they encountered. This is in a particular part of their universe that is thick with life, near a galactic core. They have encountered, over the past two thousand years, eighty-nine other intelligent or semi-intelligent species. Of those, they have conquered fifty-three of them.

“The rest have formed an alliance and have effectively stopped this aggressive species from expanding any farther. They are also beginning to push them back toward their home planet and will, eventually, succeed in invading that planet.

“In response, this species has been using hyperspace to travel vast distances, to travel past their known enemies and toward unknown star systems. But they have also discovered how to navigate between parallel universes.

“Essentially, they are looking for a new home, one where they will be free from attack from the other species that have allied against them.”

Sullivan shook his head. “This is all very interesting, but I still don’t see what part we have to play in it.”

“As I said, they are looking for a safe planet to migrate to,” Liz answered. “They have recently found one: Earth.”

Sullivan began to speak, but Liz silenced him with a wave of her hand. “Not your Earth, but an Earth of a parallel universe. This Earth is around five hundred years behind yours technologically, and this other species found them in the midst of a great war. They seemed to be an easy target, so their soldiers were sent through hyperspace to begin spreading chaos before the invasion.”

“Why couldn’t you stop them when they were in hyperspace?” asked Allen.

“We did at first. But they have since developed a wormhole technology which links two universes without passing through hyperspace. We can no longer impede their passage.”

“But we can,” said Sullivan.

Liz smiled. “Yes. The aliens believe that this parallel Earth does not possess the technology to stop them; they are correct. But when the two of you arrive with the energy weapons and demonstrate a level of technology far superior to what they thought they would encounter, we believe they will withdraw and find another planet to invade.”

“But that still won’t solve the problem,” said Allen. “They’ll still be able to use their wormholes to travel to other universes.”

“We have other agents working on that,” Liz said. “But your job is to force them to withdraw from this parallel Earth.”

“And fifteen energy weapons will do it?” asked Sullivan.

“Properly used, yes.”

Sullivan shifted in his seat. “It sounds a little too simple. We go to this parallel Earth, shoot some aliens and they run away?”

Liz arched an eyebrow. “It’s not quite
that
simple. Right now, the aliens’ soldiers are spreading out across the European continent. As I mentioned, an extensive war is currently being waged, centered primarily on Europe. The opposing forces have understandably put their differences aside to fight this new threat. But their weaponry is inadequate. The aliens’ soldiers wear an advanced body armor that deflects the standard bullets fired from rifles or handguns. Larger weapons, such as artillery pieces, will kill them, however. Your energy weapons will defeat their armor as well.”

“So what’s the plan?” asked Allen.

“We have been closely watching a group of men fighting the aliens. Your job is to meet with them and, using their experience and your energy weapons, make your way to the source of the incursion: the wormhole that the aliens have established.

“You must fire your energy weapons into the wormhole and force them to close it. They will, hopefully, believe that the inhabitants of this Earth now have the means to oppose them and will go elsewhere.”

Sullivan grimaced. “This plan seems… staged.”

“How do you mean?” asked Allen.

“As I said before, it seems too simple. It seems like a setup.”

Liz narrowed her eyes. “Richard Sullivan, I know you are here reluctantly, but I can assure you that this is really happening. And the ramifications of a species from one universe gaining a foothold in another and being able to freely pass between the two are greater than you can imagine.”

Sullivan began to object but stopped himself. Arguing at this point would be useless. “All right. When do we go?”

“I’ve already had Frank enter the coordinates into the ship’s navigation system. We’ll be dropping out of hyperspace very shortly. By the way, I have seen Kate again.”

“When?”

“Only a few hours ago. She went into hyperspace to seek me out. She has moved to Fort Hendricks for the time being.”

“Why? Did something happen?”

“She is safe. General Miller is keeping her well-protected.”

Sullivan nodded. He knew he wasn’t going to get any more information out of her.

From the cockpit, a flash of blue light reached them. They had dropped out of hyperspace. Sullivan and Allen rushed toward the front of the ship, where an unmistakable blue and white orb filled the cockpit window.

“There it is,” said Allen. “Earth.”

IV: THE GREAT WAR

PETER MORRIS STEPPED into the ship that had landed just outside the monastery gate and was greeted by a flight attendant.

“This is the Pope’s personal ship?”

The attendant smiled. “Yes. And by the way, it’s an honor to meet you. My name is George.”

Peter shook the man’s hand absent-mindedly as he glanced around at the luxurious accommodations. “How long will the flight be?” he asked.

“A little under an hour. May I get you something to drink?”

“Just water, thank you.”

Peter felt the ship rise off the ground. He looked out the window next to his seat and saw a bird’s-eye view of the monastery as the ship climbed into the sky. It looked so tiny from this height. But that small compound had been his home for three years. He hadn’t left it in all that time.

The monastery soon faded from view, and they passed through a layer of clouds. They kept climbing.

George returned with a glass of water. “Hold on to it tight,” he said, “the pilot will be engaging the artificial gravity soon, and a lot of people get a little dizzy when that happens.”

Peter could feel the shift from natural gravity to artificial gravity as the ship climbed beyond the Earth’s atmosphere and into space. He watched as the eastern coast of North America faded from sight. The Atlantic Ocean was directly beneath the ship, and the European continent stretched out in front of them.

Peter studied the shoreline of the Mediterranean. It was almost beyond belief how much history had happened along the shores of that sea, particularly concerning the rise of Christianity. The eastern shore of the Mediterranean, the Levant, formed part of the Fertile Crescent—the Cradle of Civilization—and civilization had spread westward and northward from there. From nearly the very beginning, the land of Christ had been, both literally and figuratively, the focal point of both the Western and Eastern worlds.

While they were over Spain, the ship began dropping back toward the Earth. Fire surrounded the ship on reentry. After a few minutes it subsided, and Peter could see that they were now above the water south of France. Looking forward, he could just see the Italian peninsula.

By the time the ship had landed, Peter was anxious to get out into the city. He’d never been to Rome. He didn’t know if sight-seeing was on the itinerary—one doesn’t ask too many questions when summoned by the Pope—but even if it wasn’t, he planned on staying in the city for at least a week, even if it meant he’d have to find his own transportation home. While he was there, in fact, why not visit Venice and Florence as well?

George carried Peter’s bag to the exit of the ship and bade him farewell. Peter was greeted by several men in suits who ushered him into a waiting car. Through the tinted windows, Peter could see glimpses of Rome as it passed swiftly by.

Presently the car pulled up in front of a hotel, and Peter was checked in and escorted to his room. He was told to make himself comfortable and that someone would be along shortly to greet him and take him to the Papal Palace.

Peter sat on the bed and tried to grasp the enormity of his situation. He didn’t know how many people got to actually meet the Pope, but he knew that for a non-Catholic and a non-head of state, it was incredibly rare.

He wondered how far he was from the Papal Palace and St. Peter’s Square. For a brief moment, he reflected on the disciple Peter—the man the Catholics now called a saint—and the role he had played in spreading the word of Christ. Was it more than a coincidence that he himself was named after the father of the church?

Peter immediately felt a rush of shame. He still could not accept the fact that there was anything remarkable about him, as so many others were saying. Even so, the events of the past few weeks had been a challenge to his humility.

A knock came at the door. Peter moved to answer it and was greeted by a man in a suit. He was taken down to another waiting car, and after a short trip they arrived at the Papal Palace. Peter was scanned for weapons, taken into an elevator then led down a corridor and into an office where a man rose to greet him. “Brother Peter? I am Cardinal Paulo Bonazzi.”

Peter shook his hand.

“How was your journey?”

“Very fine, thank you.”

“Thank you for coming on such short notice. An urgent matter has arisen, and His Holiness, I regret to say, will be engaged for a few days. I hope you will be able to stay until he is available.”

Peter smiled. “Of course. I was thinking of seeing the sights, as a matter of fact.”

Cardinal Bonazzi nodded. “Excellent! We will make arrangements for you to see everything Rome has to offer.”

“Thank you.”

“Brother Peter… I’ve heard all the accounts, but I was hoping you could tell me, in your own words, about the visions.”

“Of course,” said Peter. He recounted the series of events that had led up to his invitation to the Holy See. At the end of it, he sat feeling nervous. The cardinal’s gaze had been unwavering.

“Incredible!” Bonazzi said, shaking his head. Peter could see that the man appeared to believe his story. The thought made him even more uneasy.

The cardinal stood and held his hand out to Peter. “Thank you again for your patience. Come, and I will bring you to someone who will arrange a tour for you.”

THE CEILING OF the Sistine Chapel was beyond words. As Peter stared up at Michelangelo’s masterpiece, he couldn’t help but think that no matter how good the virtual reality simulations were, this was one of those wonders that had to been experienced in person. For a thousand years it had been looking down on countless visitors. Was there a single human being who had visited this marvel of the Renaissance and not been awed? Peter very much doubted it.

And there, near the center of the ceiling, was The Creation of Adam. Peter couldn’t remember how many times he had seen that image used in advertisements, in parodies. His stomach turned slightly as he thought about how human beings could take the most beautiful things in the world and twist them, pervert their meaning. Even the most sacred act in the history of the universe, the very moment God brought forth Adam in his image, was open to mockery.

Peter shook off these feelings and allowed himself to be drawn in by the image. It was the hands that had particularly captivated people. Could a more perfect symbol of divine creation ever be conceived of by the mind of man? Here were not the vulgar, sexual acts of creation of the pagan gods. This was truly a perfect moment when God, having formed Adam from clay, reached down and with the slightest touch brought him to life.

Peter turned to the altar wall of the chapel. There was Michelangelo’s Last Judgment, the second coming of Christ. He admired the painting and recognized the skill of the artist, but it did not move him the way The Creation of Adam did. Strange, considering this—the possible return of Christ—was the reason Peter happened to be in Rome.

Finally Peter understood why he felt no affinity for The Last Judgment. It was the misery depicted at the bottom of the painting: the figures of the damned being dragged down to hell. And there, in the center of the hell scene, was a glimpse of the accursed place itself. Through a cave opening in an outcropping of rock could be seen figures being burned in eternal hellfire.

Peter shuddered. He had never enjoyed focusing on the punishment those who were not saved would have to endure. It saddened him greatly. He would much rather meditate on the act of creation as depicted above.

Peter came to a realization in that moment. For three years he had sequestered himself away at the monastery. He could no longer do that. If the Apocalypse was imminent, he had to let people have access to him. If they could hear the sincerity with which he spoke when telling his story, he was certain that he could win many converts.

Another realization came to Peter. The Pope could not have taken the visions seriously. If he had, he would have wanted to meet with Peter immediately and would not have delayed him. If the Pope truly believed that Christ was returning, there was no time for delay.

Peter found his guide. “Do you know where Rome’s Stellar Assembly News Network station is?” he asked.